Tag Archives: idolatry

I’m an Anabaptist pastor. So I’m not a big fan of flags, certainly not as a sticker on my car or sitting on the stage meant for the worship of Jesus.

I left the Southern Baptist Convention largely because of its love affair with politics, flags, and nationalism. You can read about that here.

Our last SBC church was in Texas, but it wasn’t the Confederate flag that was the problem. It was the American flag–the flag that flew over a racist, genocidal nation a hundred years before what is known as the “Civil War” between the “Union” and the Confederacy.

I understand the desire to want to respond to the AME church shooting in Charleston, SC with a boycott movement to rid the country of the Confederate flag, so proudly worn by the racist who killed the beautiful people who welcomed him into their congregation. We want to do something. I get it.

We can exorcise a flag simple enough.

While I don’t accept the official story of the glorious North defeating the evil South, and that the Confederate flag represents racism, anymore than the American flag, at this point, it should come down because of its current offensiveness to our black brothers and sisters. We owe it to them.

But here is the thing. Why do we not find the American flag equally, if not more, offensive? In the 239 years of US history, there has only been about 20 years of peace. We now profit from war. Therefore, we’re seeing more of it.

The US military-industrial complex and her flag has been on a slow march of imperialism since the very beginning.

We expect that of empires, but not of the church. What’s most disturbing to me is that the US flag is worshipped in thousands of churches every year around the sacred 4th of July, while drones around the world kill innocent men, women, and children for “freedom” and justice. Does this not offend you?

And why is it that nobody seems to be bothered that the US Flag Code says it’s a living thing. Yes, you read that correctly. Give it a look. Let it sink in.

Folks, the American flag is an idol. If this isn’t idolatry and offensive, nothing else should be. There are rednecks all across the South who are saying the same thing some of you patriots want to say, “But that’s not what it means to me!”

Sure. Right. OK. That one doesn’t fly (pun intended) with me. Simply put, both flags suck. They both are full of meaning, the good, the bad, and the ugly. As Christians, we don’t need them. So let’s be consistent.

Where am I going with this post?

As I surveyed my Facebook newsfeed this morning, I thought, What if we all repented of our sins and the darkness within us with as much fervor that goes into protesting flags and boycotting other “evil” products? Both sides of the political isle do this believing that it will somehow change things in their favor. But it seldom has the intended result. The real problem still remains.

I do understand the power of symbols, but I think attacking, even destroying symbols, can merely give the illusion that the evil has been removed from us.

In reality we’re all flying flags of the heart that can’t be eradicated by legislation, protests, and social media outrage. It might make you feel better, like you’re making a real difference, but I have serious doubts about that. Real change goes much deeper, down into the human heart.

This is why “social justice” without Christ’s call to repentance is just humanitarian work, not the gospel of the Kingdom of God. Christ alone has the lasting power to transform the human heart.

Let’s do the hard work of repentance and root out the sin that begins in the hearts of men and women, beginning with your heart. One is the way of Christ, the other can be a cheap substitute, a religious show of self-righteous emotion. One is the root cause, the other is just symptomatic of the real problem.

Now go hug your neighbor and pray for your enemy, and tell them that you’re working to take down the flags of the heart. Because Jesus wants you to do it.

This fourth of July will be significant for me in several ways. It was this week seven years ago that my personal journey of discovery into a flag-less Kingdom of Christ collided with the religious powers of Christendom. What unfolded was the result of a patriotic service that would not soon be forgotten.

I grew up a Southern Baptist and served in three churches as student pastor in Texas. In the last few years leading up to my departure from vocational ministry in the Baptist church, I had been slowly embracing Anabaptism—a vision of a non-violent, love-doesn’t-stop-at-the border sort of Jesus.

In fact, I had just spent weeks teaching over the Sermon on the Mount to our youth, college students, and adult companions in our ministry. And then came the annual fourth of July service.

While I was a bit more willing to prophetically clear the temple in those days, I had decided it was wise to begin my vacation the day before this event so as not to disrupt or be a distraction by my refusal to participate in the celebration of America and the worship of the flag, something I couldn’t do in good conscience. I was for sure it was for the best.

Little did I know that there were others whom I had been teaching that would go to the service but choose not to participate in what they felt was idolatry. I didn’t learn of it until the following Sunday when I was asked by an elderly deacon in the foyer, “What’s this we hear about you teaching our youth not to say the pledge.” I was dumbfounded.

Apparently when the flag was marched down the middle of the aisle, several students and adults didn’t turn to pledge. They didn’t sing the patriotic songs, nor did they pray the nationalistic prayers.

And it seems that others noticed a small prayer group outside the church building that were praying against the event.

What followed over the next couple of months was a series of meetings with parents, deacons, and the pastor. I could no longer keep my personal views to myself. It was out in the open. And they had questions.

What had I been teaching that their students would want to put aside their former pursuits to go into missions, love all people regardless of nationality, and not waste their life on worldly gain?

They were discovering a radical discipleship. And I was becoming an Anabaptist and just didn’t know it.

The truth is that these students and adults were drawing conclusions based on a simple reading of the Gospels. And we had all come to realize that this was unacceptable for this Baptist church in rural America.

Saying no to flag worship dethrones the American Jesus and it exposes our cultural Christianity.

There would be no discussion. No debate.

We asked, “What if Jesus had physically walked in the building while you were doing those things?” One prominent member said, “Well, we of course would have stopped what we were doing and worshipped him.” Say what?

And the one retort I’ll never forget, “David, where in love your enemies does it say not to kill them.” I couldn’t believe it.

Parents were angry and confused. Church leaders had run out of patience trying to understand my perspective. For whatever reason, they wouldn’t or couldn’t hear it, or even tolerate it.

I was apparently such a threat that I had to sign a document saying I would never set foot on church grounds again. I was so deeply hurt by this that I wept at my desk in front of the deacon who had been sent to me.

When I resigned in September 2006, I announced that I was leaving to pastor a church. That was my true intent. But I was unaware of the time of wilderness, recovery, and reconstruction that awaited us.

I worked odd jobs and taught in a Christian school the last five years. And looking back it’s become clear that the last seven years has been a time of spiritual formation. I’m thankful for it. I see the Lord at work.

God’s love has used it to prepare me for what is ahead.

Had it not been for the worship of the flag that day, I might not have recognized how radical Christ’s call is to those who choose to follow him, and how counter-culture the Gospel-for-all-nations is to those who have made their home in the world.

I would not be the same person that I am today without this experience seven years ago. It has forever shaped my character and my path.